#that's what the knife bad is doing to people

[hemipenal-system]

long biopunk horny

you wake up curled up against your toxscrubber, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as she chitters and nuzzles against your neck. you aren’t really supposed to let the dog-sized creatures sleep in bed with you, but you’ve had your fingers and your tongue inside her way too many times to deny her that at this point. you shouldn’t be doing that either but if she can understand and repair an oxygen filtration system she can definitely consent so whatever. better pussy than any human you’ve ever had too so no complaints here

your “coffee machine” dispenses you a beverage, which definitely isn’t coffee but tastes reasonably like it, from an oddly phallic appendage. you try not to think about it too much

you have to go out to the garden to pick produce to make breakfast. the agridome should be sealed, but it never hurts to be careful. your filtration system skitters up your outstretched arm, hooking its little legs behind your head and spooling the long tendrils that recycle your breath and pull toxins from the air into your throat, and it shudders with a hint of arousal as you give the warm, thick appendages a quick suck. most people have to train their throats to not gag on their filters, but you took naturally to it… for some reason

the plants curl around your hand seductively as you pick the savory fruits off, soft leaves leaning into you and wrapping around your fingers, stroking up and down and wishing you gave them something else to hold…

next is protein. you let yourself into the egglayers’ enclosure and immediately get swarmed by the small feathery quadrupeds, jumping all over you and trying to be seductive in the hopes you have a spare minute. one particularly bold one even lands on your hand, gently biting your wrist and humping your fingers- until your toxscrubber snarls at it. she’s been getting really possessive lately, ever since she figured out what your tongue does

you’re chopping up vegetables for the skillet to pair with eggs, when the knife slips and nails your hand pretty bad. you yelp, and a medibug skitters across the counter from her terrarium. medibugs are fantastic, and you lay your hand, about her same size, on the counter for her to fix. one quick sting and the local anesthetic in her venom hits immediately, and she goes to work carefully stitching up your hand with a fiber the same thickness as spider silk and twice as strong, before weaving a special sticky patch to glue over it until you’re healed. as thanks, she climbs your arm and perches on your face, and you stroke her carapace as her ovipositor brushes your lips

your toxscrubber paws at you. her scales are turning orange - you need to change the filter in your air supply, but that can wait a few more minutes. your breakfast is almost ready, and she’s nosing eagerly at your crotch and trying to undo the zipper with her fangs

life is good

biopunk but in a monsterfucker way. you understand

[sunsbleeding]

…and maybe that’s all it was about, not the biggest grandest damn day of your life, not the days you conquered all your fears, finished therapy - passing with an A+, or the day you made everyone finally like you, maybe it was a lot more about the love and the simple magic of existing that was there all along, maybe it’s about feeling alive, whatever that means to you, dear friend, and the tenderness everywhere, if you look for it and just squint a little, the strangers who become dear friends, the loves of your life that lasted but a moment, the acquaintance that gave you the best advice on your flight to Chicago, the person that smiled at you from across the smoke dampened dive bar, lest we forget the best friend that never stopped checking in on you even when you became nothing more than a pebble sized version of yourself, cold and unresponsive, it’s there, life, in a million places I have and haven’t been yet, it’s not simple and it is, it’s a contradiction that taste like rare red wine, and cheap mistakes, stupid thrills and being the laughing stock and not caring one bit because you can hear the melody, everyones pain echoed back in their chorus, here’s to more endless exploration, sloppy makeouts, fuck ups and wins, not caring a tad what they say or what they think even when it’s begging to split you open, mechanical bulls, dirty martinis, cinema, dancing, Bukowski, Mozart, Martin Scorsese, Jane Austen, the cha cha, a cup of sugar, a dead rose growing mold, I love so many, so much, I’ll be the villain, or the hero, or the background character no one needs to know but I’m gonna do it with love, I’m gonna do it like it’s the only thing I know how too, depression be damned, addiction be drowned, two cold hands around its throat, the word crazy may be thrown at you like a knife but it can be caught like a bouquet, petals raining down like confetti, whatever!! we’re all heading to the same end anyways, might as well have a little bit of blind stupid fun, even if they shake there silly sheep heads in your direction, be a bit kinder, but be fearless in the face of people that will never understand you, it’s not your job to translate yourself for them, the snickers and sneers, pink with jealousy, lousy with life experience, remember, it’s not your life’s mission to be a fucking doormat, you’re not woven that way, what does it matter? love the ones that love you, truly. Go on and live, go on and do it so well, and loud, and ripe with joy that when your day comes you may waltz out of this world, hand in cold hand with the reaper, hold the scythe, help with the weight of it all, with your tales to tell and laughs to be had on the strange journey home, all your dreams already lived, all your bad decisions made, all the forgiveness caught in a butterfly net, all the hate planted and growing chickweed and dandelions, ready for nothing but another adventure, eyes set on the sun, soul humming like the harvest moon, heart full of a life lived like a shotgun, life lived like a sick mess, fuck the broom, break the glass, you can do it all and still be good, still being a speck of flesh worth loving after you went and did it all….

[legalmente-loca]

They Were Real

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: You sacrificed your life for humanity twice. Days later you find yourself in an unknown room and with your memory lost. You must not overlook any details since it could be a lie. The most important thing that occupies the center of your head is to discover who he is... Who is that man named Dean Winchester.

They Were Real Masterlist

Word Count: 2,479

Tags/Warnings: memory loss, jump in time

Prologue:

Who makes the rules about what is right or wrong? Surely they are the same people who have never found themselves between a rock and a hard place. Surely, if they were put in that position, they would not know what to do and would end up choosing the “bad” choice. All people are hypocrites and if someone says they are not... It is because they are one of the most hypocritical people on the planet.

To what extent can a person be judged by their decisions?

To what extent would you judge yourself for your decisions?

You walked through the hallways of this abandoned building looking for the monster. Charlie hadn't really found enough information to attack with confidence, but it was enough. A vetala, that's all.

But as soon as you heard a voice, your senses took off and you pressed yourself against the wall, dust sticking to your jacket, knife raised.

“I don't see her anywhere, Sammy.” He said in a tired tone.

You felt him move to the other side of the wall and you strained your hearing. You didn't know who it was, it might or might not be your fighter, but if he was a civilian, he was complicating things.

You concentrated even more when you noticed that he didn't make a sound. You didn't think he was gone.

Then, you understood the cause of the silence.

You took a deep breath and gripped your knife firmly. You quickly moved your back away from the wall and turned around, knife firmly in front of you. At the same time you made your movements, he executed them. You were facing each other, pointing at each other.

“Hey.” He greeted and you narrowed your eyes.

“Do we know each other?”

“Not in person.”

“Are you what I should hunt?”

You looked each other firmly in the eyes, one wanting to guess the other's next moves.

“Let's admit it. No one will lower their weapons.” You said.

“You would really do me a favor if you did.”

“I don't do anyone favors.”

“Not even Charlie?”

Your face paled, putting you on alert upon hearing your sister's name.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me. I'm sure you do your sister a lot of favors.” He smiled sideways.

“How do you know her name?” You growled.

“We were talking.”

You both went around in circles, going in and out of the rooms while still pointing at each other.

“Did you murder her?” Your voice shook, but you didn't care. You needed to know the answer even if you didn't like it.

“No.”

You looked at him curiously, and although your body relaxed, you were still on alert. The dust at his feet fluttered with every movement and the stranger's green eyes shone in the rays of sunlight.

“What did you do to her?”

“What I told you. We just chat. Amicably I must clarify.”

“About what, genius?”

“But how much kindness.” He said sarcastically, but slowly raised his machete in a sign of peace. “We killed this vampire together and both sides get the credit.”

“What credit? They don't even pay us and I'm not sure you're not what I'm looking for. Besides, I don't need a partner.”

“Your sister thinks so.”

“Don't mention her.” You groaned and stopped walking.

“Okay, kitten, without taking out the claws.”

You rolled your eyes.

"Besides, it's not a vampire, it's a vetala."

He frowned and lowered his machete.

"What? No. Of course it’s a vampire.”

“Blood sucked, they hunt in pairs, it's a damn vetala.”

“I haven't heard from a second monster.”

“That's because I killed him.”

You raised an eyebrow. Dean could practically feel the arrogance oozing out of your pores.

“Okay, Lara Croft, are we doing this or not?”

“I don’t even trust you.”

“But yes in her, right?

You looked at him in confusion as he lowered his hand to one of his pockets.

“Hey.”

“Relax. It’s just my cell phone.”

And just as he said, he took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a number, raising it to his ear as his gaze remained on you. Someone answered on the other side.

“Charlie, there is someone who wants to talk to you.”

He moved his cell phone away from his ear and brought it closer to you. Seeing that you didn't let your guard down, he sighed and left the machete on the ground and then kicked it away from him.

“Believe me, I wouldn't do that for anything.”

You thought about it for a few seconds, looking him up and down carefully, looking for anything that would set off an alarm in your brain. But there was nothing.

You grabbed the cell phone and brought it to your ear.

“Charlie?” You said doubtfully.

“Ahoy, here I am.”

You breathed a sigh of relief and smiled.

"Are you okey." You nodded.

“Yep, alive and well.”

“So, this guy tells me you made a deal with him.”

"That's how it is."

The way she said it so easily made you frown.

“Just like that? So easy? Were you even planning to consult with me?” You asked angrily.

“I knew what you would say, little sister.”

“And you didn't think that maybe I have my reasons?” You looked at Dean with disdain, his reaction being a shrug. “How can you be so sure he won't betray you?”

"Listen, I've already talked to his brother too-"

“Oh, so there are two?” You interrupted her. “This just keeps getting better.”

“Everything will be fine. You just have to trust me.”

“You know I trust you.” You paused. “But it's them I don't trust.”

“Listen, little sister, let's make a deal.”

“Haven't you done enough for today?”

“Trust me and let's do this. If everything turns out as expected, then we'll move on with our lives and go out for a drink. If it doesn’t work out… I’ll admit I was wrong.”

“I like the sound of that. Although I don't think it matters much when we're dead, but oh well.”

“We have a deal?”

“In a minute you will have my answer.” You looked at the man in front of you. “If you betray us, can I take care of her?”

“No one will betray you.” Seeing that you didn't say anything, he sighed and put his hands in his jacket pockets. “But yes, you can. Damn, I'll even give you all the tools you want to torture her.”

You nodded and returned your attention to the call.

“I'm in.”

“Yay!” Shee exclaimed in a triumphant tone. “You won't regret it.”

“No, I won't.”

You hung up the phone and handed it to Dean. You decided to put the knife away for now. He gave you a charming smile that you actually didn't find charming at all and extended his hand.

“Welcome, darlin’.”

You watched his hand nonchalantly and he cleared his throat, removing it and instead combing his hair.

“My name is Dean and the other guy is my brother Sam.”

You sighed and extended your hand, giving him your name. He looked at your hand before extending his own. Your hands touched, a gust of wind moved the dust at your feet.

“Your sister told me that you know when people are going to die.”

“Exaggerate. They are just… Instincts.”

“Uh…” He nodded and let go of your hand, running it over his chin. “But are you really right?”

“Yes, why? Do you want to bet?”

He smiled sideways.

“You shouldn't bet with me, sweetheart, I always end up getting the most.”

"C’mon. I will tell you if anyone will die during the mission, and if it turns out that way, you will give me that machete.”

“What if I win?”

“What do you want from me?”

You extended your arms and turned around. Dean smiled, but preferred to save the perverted comments for when he got to know you better.

“Your knife.”

"Really?"

"What? Are you afraid of losing?”

You shook your head in amusement. The mere idea of fearing something you were so sure of seemed ridiculous to you.

“Of course not. I have never missed a premonition.”

“Then we have a deal.”

He extended his hand again and this time you took it without protest, giving it a firm squeeze.

“We have a deal.”

He smiled at you, and you couldn't help but smile back. You had to admit he was charismatic and engaging.

You still couldn't separate your hands from each other, your smiles like mirrors, and they reflected each other in your eyes.

You opened your eyes slowly, feeling them heavy. In fact, as you slowly gained consciousness, your entire body felt heavy. You turned your head to either side as you studied the unfamiliar room in which you lay groggily.

Where were you?

You sat up slowly, your body aching at the movement. You had an IV and you took it out, a little blood coming out. You placed your feet on the ground and a shiver ran through your body as you felt the cold surface. You ran a hand over your forehead and closed your eyes for a few seconds, needing to come back completely.

You were wearing a hospital gown, but you didn't seem to be in one. You looked for your clothes, but they didn't seem to be there.

Suddenly, you began to hear sounds of footsteps heading towards the room. You looked for something to defend yourself with and ended up grabbing the IV. You stood against the wall, behind the door. Seeing someone open it, you prepared yourself.

It was a man. A very tall man who slowly approached the bed, surprised to not find you there. You quietly walked up behind him and placed the tip of the IV against his back, applying light pressure to let him know that what was behind him was sharp and therefore dangerous.

“Stay still and don't make any noise, understood?” He nodded. “Now, how many people are in this place?”

“Listen, I-”

You pressed the needle harder.

“Answer.” You said firmly.

“Six.”

“I can finish all of you.”

“Wait, you must listen to me.” He said your name and you cocked your head. “…And you know me.”

“Nice trick, but it won't work.”

“It's the truth. Did you have an accident-”

“Stop talking! Take me to the people who kidnapped me.

“What? No one kidnapped you.”

“You want to die?”

He sighed.

“Fine…” He gave up. “I'll take you to them.”

“Good boy.”

You pushed him towards the door. You walked close to his back. The place caught your attention. It looked big, full of hallways, but there were no windows in sight. Were you in a bunker?

He stopped before turning and you understood. His friends were there around the corner, the room without a door.

“We’ll go into the room and you and your friends will answer some questions.” You whispered. “If you don't do it, you will die.”

“You must listen to me…”

“Don't you dare talk to me like you know me.”

He stayed silent and you gave him a little push to keep him going. When you two entered you observed the people scattered around the place.

"Guys…"

“Oh, heya, Sammy.” Commented a man who had his back turned. “How is she?”

No one turned their gaze towards you, they were quite busy reading.

“Why don't you ask her instead?” Your voice echoed through the room, making everyone turn around.

Those who were sitting stood up and stuck their noses out of the books. Each one seemed to be going through different emotions.

“I don't have time for this.” You growled. “Each of you will release what you have in your hand and hold it high. You will then head over and stand in the middle of the room. If anyone makes a sudden movement, I swear I will give him a big cut on their back.

“How did I not prevent it?” Lamented one wearing a trench coat.

“Do what I said.” You ordered.

Everyone obeyed and went to the center of the place, standing side by side.

“Now that there is order you will answer my questions.”

“The angel ruined it again.” A bearded man in a suit rolled his eyes.

“…And no one will speak unless it is to answer my questions.” You continued.

The room fell silent.

“What am I doing here?” You asked.

They exchanged glances.

“You live here.”

“I don't think I explained myself well.” You pressed the needle against Sammy's back.

"Wait!" The one in the rain trench coat exclaimed. “We are honest with you.”

"Did you have an accident." One with green eyes followed.

You softened your grip because he didn't seem to be lying. But you couldn't risk it. You weren't sure if they worked for someone or alone.

“Let's say I believe you. Tell me what is happening.”

“How much do you remember?” Asked an older man in a cap

“I ask the questions, old man.” You answered.

“Okay, okay. Let's start again. You are part of us…”

“You had an accident that left you in a coma.” Another followed.

“I don't remember any accident…”

“It seems that you lost your memory.”

“The question is…” The one in the suit looked at you curiously, studying you. "How much?"

You looked at each one of them. The only thing that made sense of his entire story was memory loss. That would be the answer to all your questions. They seemed confident when they spoke, even when one of their own was under threat.

At that moment, you remembered Charlie.

“Where is-?”

“Guys, something happened to my…”

You turned around, seeing Charlie, who was rushing into the living room.

“Bitch…” She whispered.

In your distraction, that man snatched your weapon and pushed you. You tried to get closer, but he pointed it at you. You sighed defeated and raised your hands.

But he, instead of continuing to point the needle at you, threw it on the ground, which surprised you. You lowered your hands as you looked at Charlie.

“What is happening?” You asked her.

“Something happened to you and you lost your memory.” The one in the raincoat explained instead.

“But… I don't understand…”

“Don't worry, you're safe here. We are your family.”

"Family?"

“What is the last thing you remember?”

“I…” You ran a hand through your hair. “I remember surviving with you, Charlie.”

She was thoughtful and something clicked in her mind. After the death of her parents and finding you, many years had passed in which you survived every day.

Everyone exchanged glances with each other, observing the conversation.

“What's going on?”

“That happened a long time ago, little sister.”

“I don't understand… How much exactly?”

Charlie walked over to you and held both of your hands.

“It was many years ago… Many years…”

Loca's notes: Ha! It's true that I deceived you. Summing up the prologue ahead of time is a gift of joy to you, my precious followers. Comment what you think, I love you!

Dean Winchester Series/Mini Series

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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[adddddiiii]

Crimson Eclipse

1. The Alleyway Encounter

The rain came down in a steady drizzle, soaking through your jacket as you pulled it tighter around yourself. The city’s neon lights flickered against the wet pavement, casting fractured reflections that stretched like ghosts under your hurried steps.

You weren’t supposed to be here.

Your contact was late — if they were even coming at all. You shifted your weight against the cold brick of the alleyway, fingers tightening around the flash drive tucked into your pocket. Weeks of digging, hacking, and near-misses had led to this moment. Evidence of something big. Something powerful. And now, you had to hide it before it got you killed.

A single footstep behind you sent your instincts into overdrive.

You spun, heart pounding, hand flying toward the knife strapped into your belt. But before you could react, a voice cut through the rain.

"Bad idea."

The figure stepped into the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp. Tall, broad-shouldered, clad in black with a leather jacket that smelled of gunpowder and blood. But what caught your attention first was the helmet — smooth, crimson, concealing his entire face.

The Red Hood.

Your grip on the knife didn’t loosen. "You following me?"

"You’re not that special." His voice was smooth, almost amused, but there was an edge to it, something sharp beneath the surface. He took another step forward, movements slow, calculated. "But I do make it a habit to keep an eye on people who are about to get themselves killed."

Your breath came fast, adrenaline still buzzing under your skin. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

He scoffed. "Sure you do. And if I know about that little drive in your pocket, so do the people looking for it."

The air shifted.

You barely saw him move before the space between you vanished — one second, he was a few steps away, the next, he was right in front of you.

Your fingers gripping the knife twitched again.

He noticed.

"If you’re about to try and stab me, don’t." His voice was a quiet warning. "You won’t like how that ends."

Heat flared up your spine, but you forced yourself to meet the void of his helmet, refusing to be intimidated. "So what? You here to take the drive for yourself?"

A pause. "If I wanted it, it’d already be gone."

Annoyance flickered in your chest, but underneath it, a different feeling began to settle in. This wasn’t just a warning. He wasn’t threatening you.

He was watching. Studying.

You took a slow step back, trying to regain some control of the situation. "If you’re not here for it, what do you want?"

He tilted his head slightly. The reflection of the city lights glided over his helmet’s surface.

"To see if you're worth saving."

Your stomach twisted. He let the words hang in the air for a moment before turning sharply on his heel, walking toward the end of the alley. Rain dripped from the edges of his jacket, the weight of his presence still lingering even as he moved away.

Before he disappeared into the shadows, he spoke one last time — low, casual, but with an unmistakable weight behind it. "Don't go home tonight."

Then he was gone.

And the city, as if it had been holding it's breath, exhaled again.

Taglist: @uncalicous @a-lil-bit-nuts @celloccino @treeteaofversailles @promnightbinbaby @theroyalmanatee @rowannin @bungunz

[forgetme-eternally-blissfully]

Part 1 , Part 2

Kim Rok Soo wakes up several hours later. Surprisingly, he hasn't been moved from his position, still held up against the teenagers chest, face in his neck. Only now there's a monster fur wrapped around Kim Rok Soo's back and tied behind the boy. A... baby carrier.

Choi Han presses a hand on the baby monsters head when he notices it wake up. With his right hand he tightens his grip on his knife and casually swings it diagonally through the air, a black aura cutting through the space in front of him and arriving at the creature that attacked them, reminiscent of a cross between a mountain lion and a goat, with oozing green fur and bulging eyes.

The monster is cut. The monster falls.

Kim Rok Soo squirms in the carrier. It makes him recall a memory of a father that would tie his baby to his back when he went out to fight. His wife had died, so he had no choice but to manage alone, because he couldn't trust anyone with his child. They both disappeared one day, and Kim Rok Soo never heard of any bodies being recovered.

Whatever, he thinks. It isn't embarrassing to be in a baby carrier if he's a baby. He hasn't been thrown away or left behind, so it's fine, right? Unfortunately, he notices, it is glaringly obvious that they haven't left the forest yet. Nor does it seem like the teenager has a base.

He didn't want to admit it, but seeing that monster, and a black haired Korean teenager that managed to kill it so easily... it made Kim Rok Soo remember the book he read last night.

The Birth of a Hero.

It seemed unreal to jump to the conclusion that this teenager is Choi Han, and that they're in the Forest of Darkness in a fantasy novel, but the hand stroking up and down his back reassured him that this was reality. And that Kim Rok Soo... was a monster.

...

No, what was he? A monster didn't make sense. Could he really have been dropped into this world as a newborn baby monster? That might as well be the world telling him to die! If he hadn't been next to his egg shell then wouldn't Choi Han have killed him instantly?!

Kim Rok Soo doesn't know how long Choi Han has been in the Forest of Darkness, but the calm exuding from him even when he kills monsters bigger than himself makes it clear that's it's nearing the time that he'll find Harris Village.

His stomach rumbles with a loud noise. He's ravenous, but the idea of hunting a monster ruins his appetite. Choi Han will feed him, surely.

He hasn't eaten since he hatched. Kim Rok Soo was forced to record books about child rearing before so he knows that babies need to eat often. Does a teenager- no, a teenager that is over a hundred years old now- know how to take care of a baby?

Choi Han pats him on the head.

"Hey." The patting was a little harder than maybe it should've been. "... Can you eat meat?"

Kim Rok Soo hums but it sounds like a warble. Monsters don't speak. Babies don't speak either. This kid is really asking a combination baby monster a question about his diet.

Even if it wasn't super obvious, Choi Han was obviously desperate for companionship. The tone in his voice made it clear that he hadn't spoken in a while, to someone or to himself. Yet, in this terrible forest where everything sought to kill him, Choi Han willingly picked up a liability and is trying to care for it.

Kim Rok Soo warbles again, quieter. This is why this kid ends up being the main character. Kind people will always find a way to be kind.

Choi Han unwraps the carrier and Kim Rok Soo readily jumps to the ground. He misses Choi Han's flinch because he's facing the felled mountain-lion-goat monster.

Experimenting, Kim Rok Soo sticks his elongated mouth into the flesh wound made by Choi Han, but only gets a mouthful of flowing blood. It floods his nostrils and he takes his face back out, shaking his head and frowning at the bad tasting blood.

The wound won't work, so he tries to bite through the fur somewhere else, but it doesn't even tear. He's a baby monster but he can't even do that much?

He's going to try something else when a black flash has him flinching and tumbling backwards. He lands with his back to Choi Han's leg.

Choi Han reaches towards him.

Kim Rok Soo closes his eyes. Did Choi Han decide he was useless and that he's better dead? He hadn't even had the chance to try fantasy food yet! He wanted to fall asleep on a human bed once they got out!

Something wet touches his mouth.

Without thinking, he takes it into his maw, finding it squarish and squishy. It tastes like the blood his mouth is coated in.

Kim Rok Soo blinks and looks up. Choi Han is looking down at him with expectant eyes. Though his face is devoid of emotion, he manages to still seem like a friendly- if a little apathetic- high school student.

The meat is chewy and softer than he expected, or maybe his jaws are stronger than he thought, so he ignores the fact that it tastes like blood and stares into Choi Han's eyes.

For being stuck in this forest for a hundred years, he has a nice gaze.

Gulp. The meat glides down the back of his throat incredibly easily. If he hadn't been a human before this, maybe he would've swallowed it immediately without chewing.

Choi Han waits for him to finish swallowing.

Kim Rok Soo warbles, unable to ask why the century old teenager is staring. Is something the matter? He's still hungry.

When Choi Han doesn't move Kim Rok Soo points at the monster with a paw.

More.

He wants more.

Choi Han gapes, astonished, but Kim Rok Soo gets off his leg and sits patiently to his side, waiting. If he is going to take care of a baby, he should do it all the way. Of course, once Kim Rok Soo gathers his strength, he'll guide Choi Han to Harris Village and let them heal his heart. He has to leave to get some powers that he is interested in to make him moderately strong.

Choi Han cuts out another square of meat and offers it to Kim Rok Soo, only to receive a blank stare. Don't just offer it to me, feed it to me. Babies shouldn't eat by themselves, they're too weak.

The wine-red baby opens his mouth. Choi Han's mouth breaks into a small smile. He places the square of meat onto the baby monsters tongue and watches in fascination as it swallows without chewing this time.

They repeat this until Kim Rok Soo burps, lazily blinking. Being a baby is better than he thought it'd be, even if the food isn't great. He can swallow it quickly though, so he reasons that being a monster right now isn't so bad because he doesn't have to suffer through eating tough, bloody meat.

He taps his tail on the ground, like ringing up customer service.

Isn't he taking advantage of the twisted protagonist too much? Kim Rok Soo should hurry and deliver him to Harris Village as repayment.

Choi Han is quick to bring the baby monster up to his chest, wrapping the monster fur around it again. When he strokes the bumpy head, it feels warmer than when he first held it. Despite being here for so long, he doesn't know how a baby monster grows or is raised. Do they normally get warmer the more they eat?

He should feed it frequently, so that it doesn't get cold.

[enchantedchocolatebars]

I've seen a lot of people saying that Belos would have been better off being a character on another show and that Owl House didn't deserve him, but I've never seen people regret that Owl House doesn't belong to a channel with an older audience, like Adult Swim. Think about it. I love Disney for all the things that other people love and hate about it, but their main audience is children. Of course, everyone's favorite Alex Hirsch, was able to show a LOT of things not for children in Gravity Falls, but basically this show is about a town of humans, where the characters are mostly humans who do human things. Monsters, as part of the plot, appear in only twenty-five percent of the episodes and we know almost nothing about how they live. Boiling Isles is a place in another realm, a giant rotting corpse of an ancient powerful titan inhabited by witches and demons. Boiling rain is pouring from the sky, the oceans are boiling too, creatures like fire bees, spider-spewing griffins, slitherbeasts and hand dragons live all over the corpse. And despite this, witches and sentient demons behave like humans, react to things like humans. For fandom witches are just humans with different ears and magic and practical the same technologies and events and clothes that we have. They have only few things that makes them different from humans. We know that they make pies out of sentient fairies, we saw how Eda ate Adegast, we heard Lilith call Luz Eda's “human pet” and heard Eda say “Witches eating babies is so 1693”, but no one pays attention to it. People mostly discuss how cute Lumity is, or how bad Belos, Odalia, Tibbles and Kikimora are. People prefer to consider the Boiling Isles as some kind of utopia where everything is fine. But it’s boring. At first, the show showed one thing, and then abruptly began to show something completely different. Eda and King said that there is no weather on the Boiling Isles, but we never saw anything but boiling rain. We have never seen plagues, gorenados, shale hail, painbows and knife season.  

It's sad that people forget that Boiling Isles is a completely different world. It's very rare to see fanfiction or comics that take this into account. I have some Belos Redemption AU headcanons touching on this topic, but I have concerns that I won't get an answer. What do you think?

Hey, Anon!

I totally agree with you that the series should have had the witches act and appear more differently than the humans in the show, and about how the Isles isn't a perfect utopia.

Also, I think the Owl House works fine as a show for children / younger and older teens.

Not sure what you mean by when say that you won't get an answer (like I won't answer your ask?), BUT, AAA, WISHING YOU THE BEST ON YOUR BELOS HEADCANONS !!! 🫶

[solarismoons]

SPOILERS FOR S2 EP5 OF SCHOOL SPIRITS

This one’s gonna be a LONG one… Sorry in advance.

I feel SO bad for Maddie. “My mom is being a good mother just not to me.” UGH! That made me so so sad.

The meeting with the living kids and the ghosts was SO funny. Simon and Wally FINALLY interacted. It was also so fucking awkward for the living kids. Like imagine sitting there staring at a bunch of empty chairs with pictures of dead people…

ALSO Wallys, “You’ve been here like four years babe, try 40.” MADE ME SCREAM. BABE?????? I CAN’T.

I love when Wally acts like a dumbass. “Where can we find a Bazooka?” WHAT?? Also there is SOMETHING going on with Xavier. Wally literally pointed out ‘he’s looking right at me.’ I don’t think he can see them, but he can definitely sense something is there. I’m calling it right now.

Um… Wally misses body shots??? Hey… so when did Wally become a FREAK?

Yuri is FINALLY out of the pottery room??? I’m really growing to like him.

That hellscape was fucking INSANE. I did NOT expect to see Janet literally burnt to a crisp. I genuinely feel so bad for her, but I can’t help but be pissed for what she’s doing to Maddie.

Yuri’s death sounds so sad 🙁. He had such a bad panic attack it triggered his asthma? Ugh, my baby. I need him and Charley to hook up NOW.

I feel so bad for Nicole. I wasn’t a huge fan of her last season, but everyone’s always so mean to her. Not a single person even attempted to hear her out.

What the hell happened with Mr. Martin?? That man was ANGRY. I’m so confused! Janet’s old friend, Eugene, basically said the fire was purposeful. What even happened to make Mr. Martin snap like that, and why did he purposely start a fire??

That dinner was SO uncomfortable. I don’t even know what to say other than that.

The pool scene made me so sad. “Maybe Janet can do more with my life than I ever could.” I had a suspicion Maddie might have this thought eventually. Peyton’s acting was SO good.

“I wish you would be stuck with me here forever. But, you deserve to live.” WALLY STOP BREAKING MY HEART.

WALLY AND MADDIE MAKING OUT IN THE POOL??? HELLO??? The tension is INSANE. The way she touched his lips with her thumb??? They are FEEDING us this season.

NICOLE COMING IN CLUTCH WITH THE EUGENE LINE??? Janet was HORRIFIED. Also, no way Janet boiled Simon’s phone… she’s completely freaking me out. Her holding the knife while telling Simon to leave??? If she hurts anyone i’m gonna sob.

Milo with his hair down and wet made me feral. I love him either way, but the hair down just gets me. I need Wally to STOP gelling it up. The amount of fluff we got with Mally is literally is insane.

XAVIER SAW MADDIES DEAD DAD??? Okay, this is an INSANE episode. Nicole finding out that she’s texting Xavier this early was NOT what I thought would happen.

This is one of the first times i’ve cried during this show. That song Rhonda’s friend made was so heartbreaking. I love Rhonda so much.

“Why can’t it be?” YURI STOP. I love Charley so much. He really deserves someone.

RED ALERT. EVERYONE WAS RIGHT ABOUT MR. ANDERSON. Mr. Martin giving Janet Fahrenheit 451 was so sick… I hate him more and more every episode.

AND HE KIDNAPPED HER??? I CANNOT wait an entire week for this

[kidcataldo]

White Petals

(The more interesting Daryl and Carol spinoff we deserve?)

Sorry not sorry, I watched the first episode of the Daryl Dixon spinoff and completely got turned off by the whole “this kid is the messiah and you need to protect him” deal. Also, it’s in Europe? Like what??? It’s too complicated. What made the original series work is its simplicity: Rick wants to make the world better for Carl. And when they lost that, it dwindled.

That’s what this spinoff needs, simplicity.

So, here’s an idea that will never see the light of day outside of fanfiction bc I do not work in Hollywood:

The first scenes show Carol traveling on the road alone, braving the elements and newly mutated walkers (to make it more interesting, I guess).

She returns to old areas significant to the original series: first, the abandoned kingdom; then, the house she stayed in with Tyreese and the girls; Gabriel’s church; the prison, where she finds the broken picture frame of Rick, Lori and Carl (the one Carl found for Judith after Lori died). Maybe she even encounters Jim’s rotting corpse (from s1) and puts him down.

After a montage of her returning to old areas, she sets up camp for the night somewhere in the woods in an unknown location. We watch her track and hunt a small animal, then roast it over a small fire; we see her kill walkers to clear the area, then set traps around her to prevent any unwanted surprises. We watch her as she settles in for the night, clutching a knife to her chest for protection. She closes her eyes and falls asleep. She’s out here surviving, not quite living.

A twig snaps and she jerks awake, her knife at the ready. The area is dark, the fire is low. But there’s movement in the distance. She goes to investigate and finds a small group of walkers. In the process of killing them, she encounters Daryl—seconds away from stabbing him, mistaking him for one of the walkers.

They embrace and settle back in camp where she reignites the fire. Daryl’s says he’s been tracking her for a while, after she didn’t immediately return to the Commonwealth on a routine scavenge. Their conversation is vague. Carol doesn’t give an explanation of why she’s all of a sudden going backwards, traveling to all their old places. And Daryl doesn’t push it.

Morning comes and she continues on with Daryl now at her side. He spots a Cherokee Rose and picks it, following her into a familiar field: the Greene Farm. They go to the graves—weeded and worn, but otherwise untouched—and he sets the flower down where Sophia lies.

He gives her space to mourn, moving to secure the area. The house and barn are no more, not even the ashes. Not a walker in sight. In the distance he sees crops and people tending to them. He hears a horse trotting toward them—they ain’t alone.

Chaos ensues.

They get caught up helping the ones now settled here, mostly a group of Cherokee people dealing with a tyrant group nearby (old west/cowboys vs natives genre).

Daryl wants to stay and help these people. (A kid in this new group gets lost, mirroring Sophia’s fate.) Carol wants to move on, continue her journey.

They fight and part ways with Daryl staying behind to bond with this new group. But eventually they find their way back to each other—maybe it’s Carol who happens upon the lost kid, alive and well, and brings them back.

And slowly, it’s revealed why Carol is going backwards. She’s stuck in the past. Not over the things that happened to her. More specifically, not over what happened to Sophia.

Daryl, in his own way, is also forced to deal with what happened to him with his dad and Merle (and possibly his absent mother).

To make the title fit, maybe there’s Cherokee Roses and their white petals guiding them along on their journey.

The story (season?) ends with Carol and Daryl returning to the old house she lived in before the apocalypse, expecting to find only bad memories—surprised to discover good ones sprinkled in there too.

She scavenges to find old trinkets from her past. Maybe a bracelet Sophia wore, or an old photograph. And after accepting what happened, they burn it down and finally move on.

[lesiasmadness]

LAYTON HONEY WHY DO YOU JUST HAVE THESE ON YOU

[lucabyte]

A belief in Nominative Determinsim

[marypsue]

Man, it's cool and all if you see a metaphor for marginalisation in the monstrous, and if you want the power fantasy of 'what if you could just eat anybody who threatened you/pissed you off'. Me too.

However, as soon as you start saying 'no, these monsters are a 1:1 on Specific Marginalised Group, and you have to treat them in the fiction like they are directly representative of real human members of the marginalised group', BUT you also, in the fiction, make them hurt/kill/eat humans? And then try to shame me, your audience, for noticing or engaging with the bit where they kill people, because you made them directly representative of a real-world marginalised group? You have lost me, and also, I think, the plot.

[shortnotsweet]

I aim low / I aim true, and the ground's where I go / I work late, where I'm free from the phone / and the job gets done, but you worry some, I know

“TOO SWEET”, Unreal Unearth: Unending (2024) [ HOZIER ]

In “Too Sweet” Hozier draws a contrast between two individuals with different lifestyles and preferences, one who enjoys living life at his own pace, indulging in simple pleasures like whiskey, coffee, and late nights while not worrying too much about conforming to societal norms of waking up early and living a disciplined life, and a second individual, presumably the partner, is portrayed as someone who values discipline, health, and structure. They encourage the narrator to live a healthier lifestyle, waking up early and taking care of themselves.

Born from the 3rd Circle of Hell, Gluttony, same as his track, “Eat Your Young”, Hozier examines excessive mess and overindulgence, similiar to Dante’s depiction of gluttony where it not only refers to overconsumption of food and drink but also the overindulgence in any worldly pleasure to the detriment of spiritual growth.

GENIUS ANNOTATION

[hplonesomeart]

Stabby stabby time 😌✨

(Original meme audio source can be found via this YouTube video!!)

[frogwithastrawberry]

What if the masks that girls were at the Menagerie were those that covered just the eyes and so when Inej escaped and became The Wraith she got a covering that covered only the lower half of her face (a hood is attached, but she doesn't often wear it when she isn't collecting information). She said that it was for practicality when she was Kaz's spider, but then she realized somewhere along the way that there was a satisfaction in being able to look into the eyes of men who had done horrible things so that in their last minutes the only thing they can see of her is that she doesn't regret what she is doing to them.

[zeb-z]

The knife being given to Ron for him to use in the kitchen instead of being used against him as intended was so good. It was Cellbit’s knife before it was Bad’s, his sort of reassurance and comfort during triggering or stressful moments, as well as a reminder of what he wants to avoid reverting back to. A knife that gave him options.

The way that knife symbolized extremes and bloody decisions, given to Bad to carry out the actions Cellbit suspected of him, that of which Cellbit would not do but would look the other way of, knowing well what sorts of violence Bad can commit.

Bad never uses it. As much as everyone expects him to, he instead gives it to Ron for its intended purpose. Just like instead of having killed him, or as heavily implied, eating him, he had taken Ron somewhere safe.

Idk something about how characters come back from extremes, and the other islanders help in this. Baghera helping Bad settle on helping Ron escape. Cellbit’s family helping to keep him choosing the better options, striving for something level headed and rational, at the very least. Something about how people can do terrible things, but then they can do better and work to correct for what they’ve done, how forgiveness isn’t impossible and reformation is in reach.

Something about Cell’s knife, clean and newly sharpened, stored in a drawer in Ron’s kitchen, now used for gentle things.

[fluffypotatey]

Macaque cares so much about wukong. It makes me sick

oh yeah i know 🫠 makes me so ill like

yeah